Darcy regretted that he would not be the one to first introduce his stunning bride to his aunt or his cousin, but Elizabeth had already thoroughly proven her graceful aplomb. He smiled warmly. Yes, she would make a fine mistress for his home, one he would never cease to be proud of. He had every confidence in her.
Besides, the drawing-room would be exceedingly full with the entire Netherfield party, and he, Darcy, would likely be relegated to the corners of the room while his female relatives monopolized Elizabeth and his male relatives descended upon Mr Gardiner. That would leave him with… oh, no, not that. Touching his whip to his mount, Darcy picked up the pace. He would rather face Wickham with bare knuckles than Mrs Bennet with a teacup.
“Darcy, hold up!”
He jerked the reins, so great was his surprise at hearing his name that he nearly unsettled his mount. With a silent apology to the poor beast—and gratitude that it was not that clumsy hack from London—he patted the horse’s neck and turned.
“Richard, I thought you were going to Longbourn!”
“I didn’t want to get stuck in a corner with Mrs Bennet.” Richard cantered up to his side and slowed his mount.
Darcy grinned, then broke into a chuckle. Richard’s face beamed. “What has happened to you, Cousin? You are almost cheerful these days!”
“I have quite lost my mind, Richard. That is what has happened.”
“And your heart, I daresay.” Richard shook his head. “Too bad you and Bingley snatched up the only sensible Bennet sisters.”
“There may be some hope for the middle one. Georgiana finds her quite amiable.”
“Not for me, Darcy. Your Elizabeth has spunk, Binley’s ‘angel’ has sweetness. All I am able to look for is a dowry.” He sounded almost sullen.
Darcy sobered. “There are plenty of women out there, Richard….”
“Ah, yes, theton. Tell me again how many worthy heiresses you found.”
“What about Anne? She surprised me, Richard. There may be more to her than we have ever known.”
“Perhaps.” His head was down as he stared sulkily at the ground.
Darcy was quiet, studying his suddenly gloomy cousin. “There is someone, isn’t there? Someone out of your reach?”
Fitzwilliam’s eyes leapt back up, conviction and mortification flashing over his face.
“Who is it?”
Fitzwilliam turned his face straight forward. “No one you know,” was the curt reply.
Darcy rode on in silence. “Richard,” he ventured at length, “I have an estate not fifty miles from Pemberley that Father purchased as an investment. It brings in a modest but respectable income, about three thousand a year.”
“I never knew about that,” Richard replied disinterestedly.
“Nor did most. I do not like to advertise it. I would, however, like to part with it. My hands are full.”
Richard turned sceptical eyes to him, then looked away almost as quickly. “So, include it in Georgiana’s dowry.”
“Georgiana is well enough set up. Another is very dear to me as well. Would you sell your commission if I made it worth your while?”
Fitzwilliam looked again to his cousin. He stared thoughtfully without answering until Darcy began to grow uncomfortable for offering. “You know, Cousin,” he said finally, “I believe your Miss Bennet has swapped you out for a changeling. She has my eternal gratitude.”
Darcy smiled. “Mine as well.”
Elizabethwasgreatlysurprisedwith the two new arrivals in her drawing-room that morning. The awe of hosting the countess now, as well as the earl, was only overshadowed by Anne de Bourgh’s gracious well wishes for her happiness. She could have sworn the young woman had been described to her as sickly and pallid, having no strength or interest in much of life with the exception of one Derbyshire gentleman. The Anne she met, however, seemed very much like Georgiana in her shy hopefulness. Elizabeth wondered what sort of fracture had occurred between the young lady and her mother, because apparently, their desires did not align as well as had been represented.
Lady Matlock was a tall, large-boned woman with a stately, gracious bearing. She at once cornered Elizabeth and her mother, along with Mrs Gardiner. There was nothing terribly haughty in her manner, but she was clearly well used to being the most prominent woman in the room. Elizabeth found she could not begrudge the lady that, as her conversation and manners proved most agreeable. Mrs Bennet had found the woman sufficiently intimidating that she ventured few words to begin with.
“So, Miss Bennet, I understand my nephew intends a short engagement. Have you determined a date yet?” Lady Matlock’s silver hair somehow sparkled in the light of the window; a feat Elizabeth had never before seen accomplished by tresses of that shade.
“Not as yet, your ladyship. Mr Darcy intends to properly address my father before any formal arrangements are made. As he is improving rapidly, we have high hopes that might take place soon.”
